The Star Splitters
by ElectricSkeletons
Summary: Pandora Sullivan pressed her feet deep into the ground, staring past the misery and sorrow. Either soar into the void or dissolve. So she jumped. Flew high into the sky. Her strength was coming back. She could feel it with every scream and slash. She was splitting stars, fighting with all her heart. Pandora remembered. She remembered and she would never forget again.
1. Underneath

This is the final and fourth installment in the Pandora Sullivan Series so if you haven't read the other three then you might be a wee bit (actually completely) confused. Fair warning. I also wanted to take the time to thank everyone who has reviewed and sent messages. I would obviously continue to post more of the story regardless of the reviews, but it's nice to know that the characters and story is appreciated! Anyways, welcome to_ The Star Splitters_ and enjoy.

* * *

_Among frightening feathers, among nights,_

_among magnolias, among telegrams,_

_among the South wind and the maritime West,_

_You come flying._

_Beneath the tombs, beneath the ashes,_

_beneath the frozen snails,_

_beneath the last terrestrial waters,_

_You come flying._

_Farther down, among submerged girls,_

_and blind plants, and broken fish,_

_farther down, among clouds again,_

_You come flying._

_Beyond blood and bones,_

_beyond bread, beyond wine,_

_beyond fire,_

_You come flying._

_Beyond vinegar and death,_

_among putrefaction and violets,_

_with your celestial voice and your damp shoes,_

_You come flying._

-From _Alberto Rojas Jimenez Comes Flying_, Pablo Neruda-

_Underneath_

The water was frozen needles. It fell down her spine in irregular rushes of ice. For a heartbeat she tilted her head back with a shiver and let the shower immerse her. Her nostrils were burning. She still hadn't gotten used to that overwhelmingly present scent. Everything in District 13 smelt of musty earth. Not like the woods in District 7, full and sweet. Down in this beehive of tunnels and chambers the odor clung to every inch of cement. Pandora Sullivan hated that smell. It reminded her of rotting corpses.

After scrubbing herself with a rough bar of soap she dried herself off and pulled on a pair of pants and sweater, ignoring the dull grey outfit she was issued upon arrival into the District. Everything in this place was grey. It was a stark contrast to anything Pandora had ever known. In the Capitol everything was lush and grand. In District 7, rustic and welcoming. But here—here everyone was just trying to survive. _Rats in a maze_, she thought.

The bruises on her face and body had faded. The only remaining cuts and gashes were a pair of punctured holes in the soles of her feet and a half healed slice in her bottom lip. It had taken a while for the swelling in her face to go down. Yesterday had been the first time Pandora was allowed to take off the thick girdle that was keeping her cracked ribs in place to heal. It was strange to have it off, to be able to breath. After that, they had tried to keep her in the hospital but she refused. Of course, it wasn't Pandora's refusal that changed their minds. It was Plutarch.

If District 13 had it their way she would be locked up in a cement vault, down in the guts of this labyrinth. No one trusted her. For so long she had been the face of the Hunger Games. Year after year she promoted, smiled, and dined with the enemy. Pandora didn't blame them for hating her. It made sense.

Though Plutarch was able to get her out of the hospital, he couldn't stop them from tagging her. She glanced to the thin piece of metal around her ankle. Anywhere she went, they would know. In many respects Pandora Sullivan had traded one prison for another.

"Just look at it as your penitence for everything that happened in the Capitol. Everything that you did—er—I mean, everything that Snow made you do." Plutarch had tried to explain. It didn't make it better, never lessened the sting.

Pandora grimaced at her schedule as she grabbed her bag and sauntered into the corridor. _Breakfast time_. The citizens of District 13 loved schedules. The order bothered her. Half the time it was like they were swarming without actual thought.

At an intersection she stopped and pressed her lips together. The cafeteria was to the right, Pandora turned left. She wasn't hungry, and she wasn't going to listen to scribbled routines, it didn't matter if District 13 had saved her life.

It had been hard to keep any food down. Each night she'd wake up in a sweat. A nightmare about Adric or Finnick. Each night it was different, but the message was always the same: You're not safe yet. _You won't be until President Snow is dead_.

Instead of heading towards the refectory she quickened her steps down hallway after hallway. From time to time she would pass people, feeling their glares. The looks were all the same, unequivocal disgust.

The hospital came into view as soon as she stepped off the elevator. Medics slid by. It felt like refugees from District after District were constantly flowing in. Pandora didn't know how things were going up on the surface. Weeks had past since she had seen the sun, felt the breeze. Judging by the newest batch of evacuees things were not going well. She held her breath as she passed a man with no arm, a woman screaming in pain, and children dirty and crying.

After a while it became too hard to watch. She left as fast as she could and dove into the room she had been searching for in the first place.

Luckily there were no medics inside. She shut the door and fixed her eyes ahead.

Finnick was lying on his back. He had been this way since they pulled him out of the arena. Always sleeping.

She took quiet steps closer to him and pulled up a chair.

"Hi."

He whispered something in his sleep but she couldn't make it out.

"You look better."

She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a small knife and piece of wood. It was a battle for Plutarch to get clearance for the knife, but she was glad he had. It had been so long since she had whittled or carved anything. It wasn't until she had remembered everything, felt everything that had happened to her that night on the hovercraft that she could recall how the delicate skill went. With her eyes still on Finnick she began to smooth the wood.

This was Pandora's routine. She ignored her schedule. Ignored her hunger. Each day she visited Finnick hoping that he would be awake. So far he was being stubborn, although Pandora had a sneaking suspicion that the medics were giving him sedatives. When he was awake she wasn't allowed into the room, but she heard him. He would scream, and more than anything he would cry.

"I'm making you something." She kicked her feet up and glanced down at her work, "A present."

He shifted. "Ahrm."

"But you have to wake up, otherwise there's no point in all this work. It's just like you to make me wait like this, isn't it?"

"Annie…Annie…"

His shifts started to turn into violent thrashes.

"Annie!"

She could hear his erratic breaths, seeing how sweaty his brow had gotten in a matter of seconds. Quickly she dropped the wood and knife and jumped to his side.

"Shh." She touched his shoulders, "It'll be okay. She'll be okay."

Through closed eyes he started to cry. Even in his sleep he couldn't run away from the fear. Pandora steadied him until he started to calm, only then did she return to her seat.

"Annie…" He kept whispering. Sometimes it was soft and sweet, but mostly it was in terror.

Annie was in the Capitol. Snow had ordered her to be taken once the arena went up in smoke. Whatever was happening to her, Pandora knew it wasn't civil or pleasant. And she wasn't the only one. Several of the other victors were taken, the ones Plutarch couldn't get out in time. A few days after their arrival into 13 Pandora had asked if they had gotten Lux out. That was when she found out he never made it past the first day in the arena. Just another life lost, another sliver of guilt to weave into her nightmares.

Pandora reached for Finnick's hand and swallowed hard. "We're going to get her back, Finnick. I promise."

She hoped that even in his drug-induced sleep he could hear her and know that she was telling the truth.

"You aren't supposed to be in here."

Pandora didn't flinch when she heard Plutarch's voice. Instead she pushed Finnick's hair away from his face and coolly returned to whittling.

"Your schedule says you're suppose to report to me."

"Does it? I didn't notice."

"He needs his rest, Pandora."

"He's sleeping isn't he?"

"It doesn't do any good to be here."

"I want to be here. I need to—" _Need to what?_ She clenched her jaw. "I need to set things right."

"And you will. Once he's better."

"If he gets better."

"He's only asleep."

She let out a dark laugh and scraped a chunk off the wood, "I think I know a thing or two about being asleep, Mr. Heavensbee."

"Pandora, Coin wants to speak with you."

She suddenly froze. Her eyes lifted.

"Why?"

"She thinks it's time you two sat down and discussed your future in this revolution."

"You mean you implored her to speak with me."

"I may have, yes."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"For many people in District 13 that's not enough."

"It's a good thing I'm not here for District 13."

"Please, Pandora. Will you just come?"

She sighed and glanced to Finnick. Whatever nightmare he was having had passed. "Yea, right. Sure."

"Thank you."

They walked along the corridor silently. Every person they walked by nodded to Plutarch and ignored Pandora, but she didn't mind. After all, it was a step up from blatant glares.

At the entrance to the office Plutarch told her wait and went in alone.

She stood there for some time, with her back pressed hard against the wall and her eyes focused on the door. Impatiently she wound a loose piece of thread around her finger and hummed. It was a new coping mechanism Pandora had settled into. Humming. Humming any tune she could remember. Sometimes it would be District 7 folk songs, but more often than not the tune would be Capitol in nature. Melodies she recalled from her time there. The swelling violins, the well tailored measures of music.

When the door finally opened she fell silent and straightened her back. Standing next to Plutarch was Katniss Everdeen. He whispered something to the girl from District 12 and she seemed to bristle at it.

"Pandora, you can come in now."

Pandora kept her eyes on Katniss as she passed by. Peeta Mellark had been one of the victors that the Capitol had in custody and the girl on fire was obviously affected by that. They had never exchanged words, but Pandora could tell. Everyone could tell.

She locked eyes with Everdeen with tightened her lips before clearing her throat and moving forward.

Coin's office was grey. _Just like her emotionless eyes, just like the rest of this hellish hole._

"Hello, Pandora."

She didn't realize they were on a first name basis. It bothered her that Coin was using her name so candidly, let alone at all. She stepped forward with a few careful swivels of her hips.

"Hello, Alma." She mocked.

"Pandora—" Plutarch hissed.

"Oh, sorry. Hello president Coin."

It had been interesting to find out that District13 had their own president. _You'd think they would have learned their lesson after they had seceded from the rest of Panem._

Coin shot her look that could kill. "Please take a seat."

The seat was uncomfortable. Its steel frame pierced her legs.

"I'm so glad that you're looking better."

"Thanks."

"Pandora, I'm just going to dive in."

"Please do."

Plutarch nudged her as a warning and Pandora leaned back.

"I'm sure you're aware of the dangers involved with allowing you to be a part of our society. There are certain…factors that worry, not only me, but also the rest of District 13. Today I wanted to talk to you about them."

Pandora kept quiet.

"Plutarch, here, thinks that you'd be a vital part of this revolution. He tells me that you have inside information. That you have military training. That you know President Snow. Is this correct?"

"I suppose."

"Forgive my skepticism with all this, Pandora, but you were working with President Snow up until Plutarch plucked you out of the Capitol. How could we trust you? You've spent years endorsing the Capitol, our enemies."

"She was forced." Plutarch defended.

"She did a very good job of not looking forced."

"I'm told that I'm a wonderful actress," Pandora darkly joked. She was losing patience with this. She wasn't here to prove herself to these people.

"They killed her family, and you question her motives?" Plutarch continued.

"I do. You told us, Plutarch, that they were running experiments on her. Is this true, Pandora?"

She took in a breath, "Yes."

"Part of our agreement was that you, Pandora, would undergo detox treatment."

Her mouth dropped open, "What?"

"Drugs were used on you during these extensive procedures. I've seen the reports."

"No, no way. I'm not going to let you strap me down and drain me."

"I assure you the detox methods are not invasive. Our medics are trained well."

"I haven't been in the Capitol for weeks. How can they still be in my system?"

"We want to be sure."

"No."

"She's right, Pandora," Plutarch sighed. "It's not asking too much. It will only be for a few weeks."

She knew that was the root of all the suspicion. The experiments. "Fine. I agree."

"Because essentially what you are now is just another muttation."

Plutarch shifted out of discomfort and shock. Pandora's expression quickly morphed from expressionless to hateful. "What did you just say?"

"Alma, that is a great insult to someone like Pandora."

"I know what I'm saying."

"I doubt that very much," Pandora combated.

"You don't like me, do you?"

"No, president Coin. I do not."

Coin nodded. "Would you rather be back in the Capitol?"

Pandora glared, "What do you think?"

"I don't know. That's why I ask."

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who seems to think they know all the answers."

"Pandora, Plutarch here has told me many things about your time in the Capitol that leave me cynical. If I had it my way you would be put on trial in front of an assembly. We know about the revolutionaries you've killed, all the other little chores you did for Snow. But thanks to Plutarch you aren't going to be put on trial."

"You don't understand."

"So you're saying you didn't kill innocent people?"

Pandora could feel how fast she was losing ground. She gritted her teeth. "I did what I had to do. Something you know nothing about. It's easy to sit there all smug and self-assured when you haven't lived through what I have. It must be so nice."

"District 13 has suffered greatly thanks to the Capitol you decided to endorse."

"I hate to break it to you, Alma—" Pandora smiled as Coin flinched at the casual tone. "—but there wasn't much choice in the matter."

"Well that's just it, isn't it? There's always a choice."

Pandora held back the urge to hum. Instead she rubbed her lips together and manically wound the thread around her fingers.

Coin nodded, her eyes staying on Pandora. "And what of this soldier, Plutarch? The one you were telling me about?"

Pandora felt her heart jump. The thread stopped winding. She twitched her gaze to Heavensbee.

"What about Adric?!"She suddenly shouted.

"Pandora, calm down," Plutarch reached for her arm but she wiggled away.

"Is that his name?" Coin shrugged. "He is part of the Capitol. Part of the system we are fighting against. Now, Plutarch has tried to convince me that he wants to help, but I don't think that's right at all. I think he's lying. Do you know how many people he has killed Pandora? How many innocent people he has killed for the Capitol?"

"Shut up."

"I could give you a number. If I'm correct I believe that the military keeps such statistics on hand. That way they know how to reward their—oh so—brave soldiers. I'm sure you've seen all his pretty medals. Earned through the bloodshed of innocent people like your family. Of course, it might be hard to retrieve the statistics now that they know we had spies in the Capitol."

She wanted to claw Coin's face off, "I don't care. I'm finished. I'm done with this discussion."

Just as Pandora stood up Coin spoke, "Just one final question. If it was between our cause, the freedom of Panem, the chance to break away from the Capitol, or that soldier, which would you pick?"

"Pandora, you don't have to answer that. This discussion has gotten out of hand."

She ignored Plutarch and kicked the seat to the ground. Pandora was done being manipulated. With narrowed eyes and parted lips she replied with what was in her heart.

"Him." She said, "Every single time, him."


	2. Blue Night Over Me

_Blue Night Over the Sky, Blue Night Over Me_

She rushed out the office so fast that there was no chance for Plutarch to catch up. President Coin wanted to play games, but Pandora had played enough games.

_No more,_ she thought, _no more._

For years she had been chained to the ground with Snow's manipulation, with his plans, with her _candidacy_.

Her pulse was thrumming in her skull and for the rest of the day Pandora thought about how unforgiving Coin had been when it came to Adric and the Capitol. It's shouldn't have shocked her, but it had. Without question Pandora hated everything the Capitol stood for, but that hate didn't reach beyond everything Snow had done to her. That hate would never touch Adric. It wasn't the Capitol that was the problem, it was the elite—the people running the show It was Snow, always Snow. A sharp stab of vengeance traveled through her bones. One day soon she was would come face to face with him, one day she would kill him. Just the thought of watching him die was enough to keep her going.

But her meeting with Coin, her placement in the District 13—in the rebellion—none of it made sense. In a way, she felt left behind, stuck in a strange limbo. She had been through so much, President Snow had taken everything from her, changed her. And yet all Pandora wanted was to wipe her hands clean. She wanted to breath again.

Life in District 13 was unlike anything Pandora had ever experienced. It was a hard life and restrictive. No one seemed to enjoy themselves, no one seemed to pulse with love. She felt more disconnected here than she had ever felt in the Capitol—a thought Pandora would never admit, not during these times, not with these people.

That night on the hovercraft was when she had really woken up. Her eyes opened and the wall came tumbling down. She understood with retrospect how wrong she had played it. When the monster bites you don't let him sink his fangs into you, you fight.

_But how can you fight for a side that doesn't want you?_

Pandora didn't care about revolution. She cared about the people that were left in her life. Her last tethers. President Snow had once told her that there is always a price, and he was right. Pandora had paid dearly. His voice and advice was always in her head. Sometimes she dreamed that she was in his office, only a few paces away from him. He would sip his tea. She would wring her hands. It wasn't a nightmare—not like the others. These dreams were reminders of what had happened. Memories. Ever since the procedures Pandora had infrequently confused memories for dreams. She worried that the detox session would verify that her brain was still distorted, that she was regressing.

_They're waiting for you, my little darling. _

Her heart sank each time she thought of Finnick's manic episodes. Of Adric and the promises he made to her. If she were given the chance, she would carry them to the end. All she needed was a chance.

The next day she went back to the hospital, but Finnick was still asleep.

She had only just taken a few steps into the room before she caught sight of the medics.

"What are you doing in here?"

"I—" She snapped her mouth shut and looked to Finnick.

"Well?"

Without reply she darted out the doors and into the hallway. What was there to explain? That she had come to talk to an unconscious friend, to make sure he hadn't left her for insanity before she could explain everything? Something told Pandora that wouldn't go over well.

She grimaced at her schedule and scratched her head. _12:00—Lunchtime_.

Pandora tried to remember when she last ate but couldn't remember. As if on cue her stomach immediately growled. She needed to eat. If she was going to function like the rest of the rebels she needed her strength.

In District 13 meal times were done in shifts. Although the twelve o'clock crowd wasn't that large, the dining room was so small that it felt suffocating the moment Pandora stepped inside. All at once conversations dissolved into silence. Some stared and whispered. Others only stared.

She dropped her eyes and grabbed some food before taking a seat at an empty table. The glares weren't the worst part. It was the hushed disdain that really hit home. She could hear discussions happening and knew that they were about her just by the tone of voice. None of them felt compassion for her. Pandora Sullivan was traitor to them, an unforgivable traitor. It pained her to think of how different it would have all been if she hadn't fallen into President Snow's snare.

_I'd be dead. I'd be dead and my family would be alive. Finnick would have never met me. Adric would be alone—afraid. _

Everything would have been different.

She ripped a piece of stale bread away and stuff some in her mouth. It tasted like sawdust. She had been spoiled in the Capitol.

"Look who it is?"

She glanced up and tried to seem unmoved. The man lurking towards her was much older, in his late forties. He had an amused expression that terrified her. She knew where this was going.

"Pandora Sullivan! The face of the Hunger Games."

A few people jokingly clapped their hands.

She wanted to run. Instead she looked down at her food and took another bite. The worst thing you can do in a confrontation like this is show how scared you are, and Pandora knew that. She calmly stirred the bland stew around with her spoon.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to give us your autograph?"

More whistles and claps.

If this was what Plutarch called penitence, Pandora wasn't sure it was worth it. They hated her. She wasn't a welcomed presence in this rebellion. They would string her up by her toes if they had a chance.

As she got up to leave he jumped in front of her.

"My nephew was captured by the Capitols, they killed him."

Her gaze coolly rested on him.

"Maybe we should do that to you."

"Get out of my way."

She thought he was going to challenge her but he didn't. Slowly he moved to the side and extended his hand, "Oh by all means…"

The straps of her bag dug into her shoulder. _Just walk away_. Coin already had it out for her, the last thing Pandora needed was fuel into that roaring fire. But just as she started walking away he whispered.

"Capitol whore." He said. His laugh joined by snickers.

Her feet stopped moving. Her hand balled into a fist and everything went red. It was the final straw. Pandora was stuck in a tomb with refugees and rebels that had only heard tales of horror from the Capitol. They had never been swallowed whole and spit out, not like she had. She dropped her bag and spun around. He was still laughing him when she hit him across the jaw and kneed him in the stomach.

The room immediately went into a frenzy. Plates fell the ground and people bolted from their seats.

The man tried to swing at her but she dodged his fists easily. His form was sloppy and Pandora had been trained by a Capitol soldier. It wasn't like being attacked by Nyx, or mauled by that poor boy in District 6. She had been caught off guard with all those, but not this time. She was prepared and aware.

"You should be careful!" He shouted, "I could break you in half!"

Pandora studied his movements and started to circle. It was her fighting stance. Adric had taught her to stand straight. Never take your eyes off your opponent. When she circled, she circled like a predator.

"Unfortunately for you, you'd have to catch me."

He threw another punch and she ducked.

All around them people were shouting and spitting. The words were all distorted and angry. She knew the cheers weren't for her, but no one intervened. This was cheap entertainment for the all those poor saps that had been tricked into thinking they mattered to the rebellion.

At some point, the man decided to stop punching air and start hurling his body at her. His form was haphazard and chaotic. It took him a few tries but he finally was able to knock Pandora in the shoulder and send her crashing to the floor. That made the crowd go wild, but the ovations were short lived. A voice sharply broke through the noise…

"Hey! What is going on in here!?"

In a blink of and eye the crowd hushed and backed away. Even Pandora's opponent stopped dead in his tracks. She struggled to her feet.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Calin?" The man shoved through the crowd and angrily looked at Pandora. He had short grey hair and blue eyes.

"She started it."

"She's a girl. If I see you causing any more trouble I'm going to deal with it myself, got it?"

"I didn't realize we were harboring traitors. That's not the revolution I signed up for!"

"Then you can walk back to District 10…you—" he pointed at her, "Come with me."

Pandora stepped back and rubbed her head. She was afraid to follow, but anything was better than sticking around. The man waited till they were far away from the cafeteria before he started in.

"You should be careful. You're not the most popular in these parts."

"I couldn't tell."

"He was a lot bigger, he could have really hurt you."

"I've dealt with worse."

He widened his blue eyes, "Well, Miss Sullivan. I'm sure you're right. I'm Boggs."

"Pandora," she eyed him suspiciously.

"I know."

Pandora had seen this man somewhere, but she couldn't put the pieces together. Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms and dropped her eyes to the floor.

"Thanks for pulling me out of there."

"Well, as it happens I was coming to collect you."

"Oh?"

They walked into an elevator that quickly swung sideways. It was hard to get used to 13's elevators. They didn't just go up and down. _Twitchy elevators for a twitchy maze. _She gasped and grabbed the wall to steady herself.

"I heard how bad the meeting went with president Coin."

"I didn't realize it was worth hearing about."

"You can't blame us for worrying, can you?"

Pandora looked to him and adjusted her posture, "I never said I did."

"Coin doesn't trust you. It's lucky for you Plutarch's on your side, otherwise you'd be chopped liver."

Pandora knew he was right. Plutarch was helping her stay above water here. But it wasn't Plutarch that had saved her life. Adric had. Her eyes darkened as she wondered where Adric was right now. He told her there was unfinished business. He promised they would see each other again. Before the end of all this. Suddenly her heart tightened.

"Something the matter?" Boggs asked.

She grabbed the railing and lifted her eyes. "I'm not sure you want the answer to that."

"You're probably right."

"And what exactly is your job, Boggs?"

"Me? A little of this…a little of that."

"Right."

"You move well, I wasn't expecting you to be such a good fighter."

"That wasn't a fight."

"Who showed you to fight? You learned all that in the arena?"

"No." Her body felt tense, "A friend taught me."

"In the Capitol?"

"Yea." The reply was laced in shame.

Boggs smiled.

"Those experiments probably helped too."

She narrowed her eyes. _Did everyone here know about that?_ It felt intrusive. What had happened to her was none of their business. Pandora clenched her jaw and fixed her eyes ahead. Instead of taking pity on Pandora for the brain scrambling procedures she had gone through, the officials in District 13 saw it as a threat. And maybe they were right. Maybe she was a danger, a bomb just waiting to go off. Pandora quickly recalled how she had slit that rebel's throat back in the Capitol. It had all been done on primal instincts, out of fear. Her body had moved faster than her mind.

"Plutarch's reports said it was done through the brain."

"You're awfully nosy."

"Sorry, that was rude of me."

She felt the elevator shift to the right.

"Yes."

"Hm?"

Her face didn't give anything away. "It was my brain. My memories."

She waited a heartbeat before continuing. "Manipulation through fear is affective, but chemical manipulation…" her voice trailed off, "Well, it brings it all to another level, doesn't it?"

"Did it hurt?"

She thought back. The memory was crystal clear. Her knees sinking into metal grating, serum rushing through her veins, and a sharp needle in her brain. Adric pounding on the glass. Adric crying. Adric screaming. And then she was on fire, but there were no flames. It was an unseen blaze that seared through her entire body. It wasn't a phoenix that had risen from the ashes that night. It was a sad comatose girl with a broken mind.

Pandora took in a breath, "It may have stung a little."

The elevator opened up to a pale corridor. Boggs checked his schedule before beckoning Pandora to follow him.

"Where are you taking me, anyways?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? We're heading to Special Weaponry."

She stared at him in complete confusion, "What?"

"We've had a few weapons developed for you."

So this was actually happening. They were going to fight. More importantly, Coin was going to let Pandora fight. It was stretch to think that they would develop weapons for her, let alone give her one. After what had happened with Coin Pandora was positive that she would be locked in a padded cell with a gag in her mouth. _Apparently not_.

"Weapons?"

"Things are developing faster than expected out there. We need to be prepared. There's no rest, not until we overthrow President Snow. We need all the fighters we can recruit, even the…questionable ones. You didn't think you were just going to be playing games here, did you?"

"I thought Coin didn't trust me…"

"Let's just say you owe Plutarch one. I don't know what you've done to convince him of your sincerity, Miss Sullivan, but he is a believer."

It was hard to keep up with Boggs. He was moving fast. Moving the way a soldier would. She scanned him, noticing his posture. It wasn't as immaculate as Adric's. Boggs didn't have as much effortless grace to his movements.

They were going through the retinal scanner when he spoke again.

"I would keep a low profile from here on out. You aren't a star in District 13, not like you were in the Capitol. That stunt you pulled in the lunchroom won't go unnoticed. In the field you'll have targets on your back, on both sides."

Pandora couldn't agree more, except for one thing, "I was never a star in the Capitol. I was property."

"It didn't look that way to me."

"Never does."

"Even with Plutarch backing you, they'll want answers. They'll want you to pay for what they see as betrayal, Miss Sullivan."

Pandora stared ahead, passive and restrained.

"Believe me," she finally whispered. "I've paid."


	3. I Slide Forward Through My Head

_I Slide Forward Through My Head, Half Way Backwards_

The doors opened up to Special Weaponry with a soprano sigh. Pandora stepped forward.

There hadn't been a chance to really explore the sections of District 13. Even if there had, Pandora wouldn't have taken the opportunity. It seemed pointless. To put it plainly she didn't care.

But the moment she walked into Special Weaponry, Pandora realized, maybe for the first time, that this rebellion might have a chance.

District 13 was made up of tunnels of pale cement, reinforced by invisible steel. There was no life to District 13. It was neither impressive nor disappointing—it was nothing, blank and flavorless. The room Pandora carefully stepped into looked like it was cut from a different cloth. Glass and steel vertebras made up the walls, the floor was sleek and well polished. And the weapons...

"There's so many." She found herself whispering.

Boggs let out a stolid "Hmph", as if it were the dumbest thing she could have said.

It wasn't just the weapons that impressed Pandora, it was the technology, the machinesque nature of the room.

Blades, guns, spears, and arrows of silver, graphite, and gold reflected in her eyes as she followed Boggs. Farther down thick sparring mats and punching bags waited to be tested. A row of screens catalogued the speed and agility of the trainee.

"How did District 13 get all this? Since the first revolution you've been all alone. Dead to the rest of Panem."

"We weren't dead, we were preparing."

It was the watered down version of what the Capitol had at its disposal, the cheap knock-off of a real armory and training program. Pandora wondered if this was enough to defeat President Snow.

The room quickly thinned into a corridor of glass, and as they made their way inside Pandora noted the thickness of the panes. Of course delicate sheets of crystal and glass wouldn't survive in District 13 like they could in the Capitol. Here the leading aesthetic was durability not luxury.

When the funneled corridor widened once more Pandora slowed her steps and arched her eyebrows.

Wires, chunks of technology, and computers filled the small nook, and dead in the center of it all was Beetee. He didn't look up when they entered. He was working on a spear point of an arrow, meticulously working. Pandora narrowed her eyes. District 3. He had been one of the victors that Plutarch had snatched out of the arena. He was older. Quiet.

Her gut reaction was to run the other way. The cafeteria had been a bad enough experience. She didn't need another victor to tell her how evil she was. She already knew the depth of her evil.

"Hello." Boggs's voice echoed.

As if he had been snapped out of hypnotic trance, Beetee lifted his eyes and blinked several times. She saw him glance to her and then back to Boggs.

"You're early."

"Miss Sullivan was easier to find than I expected."

Beetee turned his attention back to the arrow. "Just give me one—" he attached the point to a shaft with a click, "There."

"Miss Sullivan, this is Beetee. He's been heading up the special projects for us. Beetee this is the infamous Pandora Sullivan."

_Infamous…what a joke. _

She impassively nodded to the aging victor and shifted her weight. Beetee mirrored her actions.

"I trust you can handle this meeting yourself, Beetee?"

"Of course."

Pandora widened her eyes. He was leaving her alone? What was she supposed to get out of this "meeting"? It was starting to feel like District 13 was afraid to have Pandora on her own. They were playing a confusing game of Pass the Psycho.

"It was interesting finally meeting you, Miss Sullivan. I'll be seeing you around."

He spun on his heels and headed back to where they had come from. His footsteps echoed until there was nothing but silence and a series of indistinguishable clicks from the surrounding machines.

Instead of moving toward Beetee, Pandora carefully stepped along the perimeter of the room. Her eyes never left his. Her movements were predatory without meaning to be. She couldn't help that she felt on the defense all the time.

"Don't worry, it's not a trap."

"What?"

Beetee smiled and started to rummage for something on a nearby table. He was in a wheeled chair because of injuries sustained in the Quarter Quell.

"You're looking at me like you're expecting the worst."

"Better than hoping for the best."

"I don't think that's how that one goes…" he adjusted his glasses.

"I don't trust you."

"You don't have to."

Her eyes dropped to a leather case he was fumbling with. "Why am I here?"

He ignored the question and continued to mess around with the gadgets all around him.

"Don't they explain anything to you?" He finally asked.

"No."

"Well—I guess I should then." He smiled but Pandora didn't smile back. She kept looking at the leather case. "I don't judge you, just so you know."

"Judge me?"

"You hear things in this place. Must be all the tunnels. Right now people are saying that you're a traitor. That you're a Capitol spy."

"And what do you think?"

He opened the locks of the leather case with a loud snap. "I think they don't know what it's like to be chosen to kill other people in the name of fun and games."

She swallowed hard, "But you do."

"Yes, Miss Sullivan. I'm afraid we both do. The only difference between you and me was that after the games were over my value decreased exponentially while yours rose."

She dropped her gaze to her boots. "Pandora, you can—you can call me Pandora."

"In mathematically theory there is always the unknown. The unknown changes in form and context from experiment to experiment, but one thing is always true of the unknown. It terrifies. You are their unknown, for now, maybe forever."

She inched closer. Beetee noticed out of the corner of his eye and smirked.

"I've been given a run down of your skills and fighting abilities."

The shift in conversation left her even more speechless.

"No offense but I knew little to nothing about you, Miss Sullivan. It was hard to develop weapons for a stranger. Most of my information came from Plutarch Heavensbee. A viable source?"

"He's never seen me fight—except in my games."

"Well his specifications were all I had."

He opened the leather case and peered inside. Pandora couldn't see what he was looking at. She took another step closer.

"I hear you're good with knives and swords."

"And hand-to-hand combat." Adric had been stubborn about what he trained her in. He forced her to learn the art of blades and hands, even when she wanted to use a gun.

"So Heavensbee wasn't completely wrong. Good."

Pandora realized quickly that Plutarch must have broken into the military files the Capitol had on her. No doubt he had made a study out of Pandora Sullivan before he realize she could be a vital asset to this whole revolution. Everything had been in those files. Her agility scores, her understanding of weapons and defense…her kill count. Coin had touched on that the day before with Adric, but Coin was a fool. Hunger Games victor, rebel or soldier—it didn't matter. All had a kill count. Once Pandora would have been horrified by the numbers, but now things were different. The higher the kill count the better you were at surviving.

"I just finished this morning—" As he turned the leather case to face Pandora she parted her lips and tilted her head. "Specifically designed for Pandora Sullivan."

It was a set of knives. Each so complex that Pandora had to squint her eyes and stare for several seconds at a single one before moving to the next. The inventory went as follows: Three katars, short blades grasped in the palm with the point protruding from between the fingers of a fist. These cut shallow, but they hurt. A pair of deer horn knives, X shapes blades with two steel curves crossing. One crescent curve is gripped in a leather bound middle, the other curve becomes a hand guard. Pandora recalled Adric tutoring her with these, but not intensely. And finally her eyes rested on the last one. She stared at it with fascination before picking it out of the velvet and lifting it into the air. It was long and slender with a slight curve to it. One side was serrated while the other was paper-thin. It caught the light and winked a gleaming silver at her. _A sword. _

"I call that one the Cat's Claw."

"I've never seen a sword like this."

"Designed to both slice and rip. Depending on how you hold it. I constructed a sheath that will allow you to hold the blade across your back."

She churned it in her hand and furrowed her brow, "It's light."

"Yes. All of them are. I figured you'd be carrying all of them when in combat."

She glanced to him. It was strange to hear someone talk about combat. Not hypothetical combat, but actual.

"Those aren't all. Here—"

He handed her a pair of gloves. She was surprised at how heavy they were when she grabbed them. Fingerless and black leather.

"They're called cestuses. For when in hand to hand combat. Inside the leather is steel. You can see the steel poking out just there. Makes each blow harder. Try them on."

They clung close to her knuckles and skin. The weight wasn't so bad once they were on her hands. A few times she balled her fingers together to get a feel for them. On the fifth time she gripped her hands into fists she saw a blue bolt of electricity surge through the gloves. Her face went pale.

"What was that?!"

"I inlaid the matrix of the gloves with a type of chargeable electricity. Ever used a tazor?"

She stared at him in shock.

"When the cestuses are charged and you punch someone it will send a bolt of electricity into them. Not a lot, but enough to throw your enemy off, and it will burn."

She clutched her hands together, "Interesting."

"Five times to charge."

"Good to remember."

The clock said 18:00 hour, when she finally left Special Weaponry. Beetee kept the weapons. They weren't allowed out of the facility until necessary. Holding those crafted knives gave Pandora chills. It was hard to wrap her head around. Everything in 13 was hard to take in.

In the elevator she glanced to her schedule. She was expecting what it always said for 18:00—_Dinnertime_—but it was something completely different. Her eyes narrowed. A burst of acid filled her mouth. _18:00—Detox, Report to Hospital_.

So Coin was sticking to her demands. Pandora winced. She wished she hadn't agreed to that one. She wasn't some morphling that needed to be drained. She was in control, she was sure. Wasn't she?

Her back pressed hard against the wall. Suddenly her head hurt.

Coin had found the distaste to call her a muttation. Pandora had never felt as insulted as she had in that moment. It made her feel so low. To be call a muttation, as if she was like those wriggling sonar eels, vicious and heartless. But the truth was that it made her feel so low because she knew it was the truth. She had allowed Snow to change her, transforming her from a human girl into a mysterious creature. On her bad days she was a killer, basing all her actions on instinct and obedience. On her good days she was a false shell of velvet. Pull the veil away and you would see the truth, squirming angles as sharp and brittle as a hoarfrost briar patch.

It took all Pandora's shame to follow the schedule. Slowly she swallowed her pride and headed towards the hospital. She had agreed already. If she backed out Coin and the rest of District 13 would be even more suspicious.

The area was ready for her when she arrived. They ushered her into a stark white room. There was a gurney surrounded by strange devices, IVs, and trays of medical equipment. Her palms began to sweat. Hospitals make everyone nervous, but it was becoming a phobia of Pandora's.

"You'll need to put this on."

They tossed her a thin paper gown. It was scratchy.

"Sit right there."

She slipped onto the gurney and leaned back. The helium lights flickered, and Pandora found herself wondering how District 13 was able to get electricity at all.

"How long will this take?" She asked.

"The process normally takes an hour. But first we need to run tests."

Pandora narrowed her eyes. She had her fill of tests back in the Capitol.

First was the blood test. That was simple, expected, and quick. Only a prick of pain and a flash of crimson. But the tests that followed were far stranger.

They forced her to study blocks of shapes and colors in a given order and then reassemble them. Pandora wasn't sure on the etiquette for the reconstructing, but she gave it her best.

Then came the word association. A set of words and numbers were placed in front of her and she had to say the first thing that came to mind—this one was by the far the most nerve-racking, everything she said felt wrong.

On and on these strange psychological and memory tests went. Each one designed to catch Pandora, to demonstrate how unstable she was. It felt like overkill. Making her look unstable was the easiest thing in the world, everything that came out of Pandora's mouth had a slight unhinged tang to it.

After all tests were finished they finally lowered the gurney.

"This will pinch a little."

She watched as the medics strapped her legs and arms down. _Not a good sign._

"Are those necessary?"

"Protocol, Miss Sullivan. Please stay still."

The devices were pushed closer.

"Do your best not to scream."

"What?"

The machines were flipped on. Pandora held her breath and shut her eyes tight. They inserted the IVs before she could blink—one in each arm. It stung, but the pain was nothing to scream about. Her brow furrowed.

"That wasn't so bad."

One medic looked to the other, their faces covered with surgical masks.

"We haven't begun, Miss Sullivan."

Her eyes widened, "Oh."

"Ready?"

"I guess…"

They nodded and moved towards the machines.

"How—how exactly is this going to work?" Pandora's voice went high at the end. She felt beads of sweat trickled down her neck.

"The process is similar to distillation. We're simply going to filter away all those toxins that could be left over."

"I think I—" she tensed her arms, trying to wiggle out of the restraints, "—I'd like a minute. Please—I just—"

Instead of listening the medics began adjusting dials and meters.

"Hey—" she rubbed her lips together. "—I said I want a minute!"

"Calm down. You'll make it worse if you struggle."

"Get these off me!"

Flickers of the past clouded her vision. Pandora being pumped of serum with a needle in her brain. Pandora's bleeding out in an operating room. Needles. Bright lights. Blood. Always Blood. She tried to catch her breath but the memories kept coming.

"I can't do this!"

"Press the button."

"Are you sure? She seems—"

"We have our orders."

Pandora gritted her teeth in preparation. She threw her head back and pressed her lips together. She heard the machines fizzle as the obedient medic began the procedure.

_Think of a song. Hum any song. Anything. Think of anything. An hour's not long. It's not long at all. You can do this. Think of anything. Sing anything. _

There was a few seconds delay before the solution hit her veins, but when it did, Pandora realized why they had warned her. Her mouth opened with a shaking cry.

The solution was working its way through her body with painful efficiency. It wasn't only her veins that were being torn apart. It was her muscles. Her organs. Her brain. Most of all it was her brain. She jerked her head from left to right. Pandora's vision was suddenly obstructed by hundreds of tiny rainbow dots swirling in a terrible dance.

_Think of anything. _

"Are you looking at this? It's worse than we estimated."

_No, no, no. It's worse?_ She knew what they meant. She knew it then. _It's not worse. I am. I'm what's worse. A lost cause. _

"Keep the solution steady."

Tears started rolling out of Pandora's eyes. _Shredding_. That was the only word for this pain. They were ripping away what the Capitol had welded to the old her. She could literally feel each particle being scattered and cleansed.

"Just breath, Miss Sullivan." Someone whispered to her. "Breath. You'll feel better when all this is over."

Through trembling lips she whistled a breath. "My head—it hurts—"

"I know. Stay strong. We're fixing things."

_Think of anything. _

Pandora panted. She needed to latch onto something. Through the pain and ripping, she closed her eyes. At first she tried to imagine a forest, green and lush, but that didn't work. The moment she imagined thick pines she also saw her brothers hanging from the branches. Then she thought of the way the rain fell onto glass and traveled down in rivers. Still the pain was overwhelming, but that wasn't what was scaring her. She was afraid she would forget everything again.

"Ahh—please—stop it—"

"If we stop now we'll just have to start over."

_Don't forget. Don't forget. Don't forget. _

Pandora thought of the night she had been saved from the windowless cell and carted onto the hovercraft. She remembered how Adric leaned over. He had pulled on her earlobe. His blond hair had fallen into his eyes. He had smiled, just a little. He smiled.

_Think of that smile. Concentrate on the smile. _

She let out a wail. The memory of his smile quickly transformed into one of him crying and screaming.

_Where are you Adric? _

The minutes rolled on. Her eyes would open only to shut once more. Her senses were on overload. She could taste the oxygen in the room. Hear a deafening buzzing.

Pain. Pain. So much pain…and then…

"There."

It came to a halt.

Pandora gasped for air.

"We're done."

She felt the IVs slip out of her arms. Her head rolled back.

"Finished."

She tried to sit up but it was still hard to see.

"I can't—"

"You need to remain horizontal, Miss Sullivan! No!"

"I need to get out of here—" Somehow she found her footing only to stagger in place.

"Sit down!"

She heard the medics scuttling around her.

"Get out of my—" a lightness was taking hold. She clasped her hands on either side of her head. It felt like her skull would turn into a hot air balloon and crash into the ceiling. Her lips turned cold. The blood was rushing away from her cheeks.

"She's going to faint!" Someone squawked.

Three seconds later everything went black for Pandora and she collapsed to the ground.


	4. Spiderwebs

**Note**: Sorry for the delay. I'm working on my own book as well, so obviously I put more of a priority on that, but anyways...enjoy.

* * *

_Spiderwebs_

_Darkness. Nothing was out there. Shadows fell over her face. Shadows fell from the sky—shadows and something else…_

_Snow._

_Pandora held her hands out, hoping to catch a few flakes. Each delicate morsel of snow glided down, pristine and white. It was beautiful. She spread out her fingers. All she wanted was a touch, to feel. _

_Inch by inch the snowflakes fell—just one touch, one comforting touch. _

_But the moment they kissed her skin the flakes transformed. Her eyes widened in horror. It wasn't frosty snow, but ash. Clouds of ash. _

_A deep gasp flooded her lungs. Her gaze dropped from her hands to the ground. She could see it then, see what she was standing in. Though the mounds of ash were covering it, a few blossoms poked out, smiling their folds up at her. _

_Roses, white roses. She was in a field of white roses. _

"_Pan." _

_She whirled around and stumbled back. Her breath came out in a puff of white frost. _

_Adric was standing like a statue. He wore his officer's uniform. His decorations and medals glimmered in the darkness, catching the reflections of falling ash. _

"_Where are—Where are we?"_

"_Dreaming." _

_Pandora stepped back, smashing a rose underneath her bare feet. _

"_This isn't real…" _

_Caw! _

_Her eyes twitched up. Crows. She felt her heart quicken. _

_Caw!_

"_No." _

"_I have to go." He whispered. _

"_Don't leave me alone. The crows!" _

_Caw!_

_Pandora desperately looked back to Adric. His skin was turning into marble. His glowing blond hair into stone. _

"_Stop!" She shouted. _

_It reached his eyes last. _

"_Even if you never see me again, you'll know…" _

Her fingers dug into the stale sheets. Her eyes opened with a sharp gasp.

For a heartbeat Pandora was convinced she was still dreaming. Her eyes blinked around the dim room. Her hands were shaking.

Suddenly she heard a creaking in the corner and jolted up.

"Woah, woah! Easy."

She scrambled backward and hit the wall. Standing by a small lamp was a woman she had never seen. She was wearing a grey jumpsuit. Her hair was the color of dirty dishwater.

"Who are you?"

"Relax!"

Pandora sniffed and jerked her head around. _District 13. I'm in District 13_. This was her room.

"How did you get in here?"

"I'm a healer. I was given the responsibility to watch you. You've been asleep for several days. My names Mara."

"Asleep?" Pandora quickly understood. _The detox_. The procedure had drained her. "You—you were one of the medics."

"Yes."

Mara rose to her feet and took slow steps forward.

"We were able to help get some of the toxins out—but—"

"But what?"

The door flew open. Pandora jumped in surprise.

Mara's eyes turned into saucers and she stepped back. It was Plutarch. He looked down at Pandora and then to the medic. "You were supposed to get me the minute she woke up. I've been waiting outside."

"She just did, sir. I didn't have a chance."

Pandora creased her brow. "What did you mean _but_? But what?"

Plutarch anxiously turned to Mara. "What did you tell her?"

"Nothing. She was confused."

_And I still am._ It was obvious there was something they weren't telling her.

"Please leave."

Mara's dishwater hair clung to the sides of her face in a limp bob. She grabbed her sweater and hung her head low.

"Wait! What did you mean?!" Pandora shouted after her as she slinked out of the room and shut the door. "What did she mean by _but_?!"

"Calm down, Miss Sullivan."

Pandora stumbled to her feet and winced. Her head felt like it was full of sewing needles. "Ah—" she took in a breath, "—headache."

"You should sit."

"I can stand."

"Doesn't mean you should. Here." He pulled out a chair and gestured toward it. Even though Pandora wanted to stay strong she couldn't deny how good it felt to sink into that flimsy seat. She rested her elbows on her knees.

"What are you not telling me, Head Gamemaker? What happened?"

"It was a good thing we did the detoxification to you, Miss Sullivan. The healers were able to restore parts of your brain by purifying the contaminants in your blood. It was worse than I imagined. I'm not a doctor, but the explanation I got told me enough."

"I'm all fixed then?"

Plutarch stayed silent.

She lifted her eyes. "Aren't I?"

He turned away. His expression growing grim. "Interesting wall decoration you keep."

For a minute the distraction worked. Pandora followed his gaze to the wall in question. Her lips tightened. It was covered with the pictures Plutarch had shown her on the hovercraft. Pictures of her dead family members. She had pinned them up as a reminder.

Her eyes darkened. "Thank you."

"You should have let me burn them."

"I should have done a lot of things."

The air went dead all of a sudden. She had expected Plutarch to reply, but for a heartbeat it just looked like he was struggling to breath. She watched as his eyes twitched from the pictures to the floor and then back up to her face. He was fighting something. Fighting with words. And then he spoke and the silence that came before hurt.

"You're dying, Pandora."

Her whole body went into instant shock. Her eyes went wide and wild. "What?"

Plutarch wasn't making eye contact. This had to be a joke. Some sick joke.

"That was the but."

"How—what—I don't understand. I'm healthy. I am fine. If it's about those tests they did on me before, I wasn't taking them seriously. They don't mean anything. I'm fine. I know I am."

Finally he looked at her. She could have sworn she saw tears forming in his eyes. "It wasn't those test."

"Then what?"

"You're brain has suffered multiple invasive traumas throughout the years. Whatever toxin they used to enhance your physical and mental alterations was so strongly linked to your being that it was hard to fully cleanse you. The healers did what they could to restore, but as they did they uncovered several regressions in brain pattern and chemistry."

"I feel fine! I'm not dying—that's impossible!"

"I'm so sorry, Pandora."

"No."

She cupped her hand over her mouth and leaned forward. She didn't know if she was going to vomit or scream. Maybe both.

"I had no idea, Pandora. I doubt the President Snow knows of your current state. If I had known—"

She clutched the armrests, "How long—How long do I have?"

"At most 3 months."

Her blood went cold. "What will happen to me?"

"At first you'll have headaches. Then the headaches will start to turn into migraines. Nosebleeds will become more frequent. Hallucinations. The way the healers found the present state of your brain they're convinced that you've already come into contact with a few of these symptoms."

The healers were right. She had experienced everything he was saying.

"But as the months progress they will become worse, until finally your brain hemorrhages."

Pandora let out a serrated cry and leaned back. Her eyes were burning. "I'm dying."

Plutarch cleared his throat.

"I never stood a chance, did I?"

"You still have time."

"No one can know," She shook her head. "You understand? No one."

"Pandora—"

"I said no one!"

"Alright. Alright, Miss Sullivan."

She stood up and felt a wave of nausea hit her. "3 months—3 months," she pressed her hand against her mouth, "I still have time."

"Look, they could be wrong. You were never supposed to get out of that coma but you did. Maybe we can fix this."

"You and I both know there's not a thing District 13 can do to help me."

_How could this be happening?_ She didn't feel like she was dying. Of course she felt tense and strained, but that was how it had always been. Pandora couldn't remember what it felt like to be a little girl without worry. It was hard for her to believe that she had survived this long only to die before she had a chance to right her wrongs, to have her vengeance.

"I don't want to discuss this," she felt like she was hyperventilating, "No more."

Plutarch nodded.

She stared at the pictures. August and Dash hanged by their necks. Her mother lying in a puddle of her own blood. Poor Ophelia holding hands with a doll, lifeless. She was about to have a picture of her own. Pandora quickly imagined a snapshot of her body, grey and lifeless on a metal table.

_Death. Death. Death._ It was all around her, inside her.

"I wanted to talk to you about something else, Miss Sullivan. I know this is bad timing—but there's little time in the first place."

She kept her eyes on the pictures. Doing what she had done everyday since her arrival into District 13. Studying them. Remembering.

"Coin thought—"

"Please don't use that name right now."

He pursed his lips, "Propos are being shot. We thought it would be good to somehow show the rest of Panem that they aren't so alone. To share stories of what the Capitol has done. A chance for them to see the rebels fighting."

"Isn't that what your Mockingjay is for?"

"Katniss Everdeen has already agreed."

"And what? You want my story? You want me on camera, to tell the Capitol to go to hell?"

"Yes, actually. They're telling the Capitol that you're dead, Pandora. President Snow is banking on you not appearing on camera."

"He knows me well."

"And you know him."

She grimaced.

"You could sway the Capitol citizens. Make them see that they can fight too. Pandora, I believe more than anything that you are President Snow's Achilles Heel. I think you still have an important role in this rebellion that hasn't been discovered."

_I'm dying. I'm dying. I'm dying. _

"I am not a parrot! I will not recite more lines. I'm done being a mouthpiece."

She pressed her hands against the wall and lowered her eyes.

"I won't force you to. I just think—"

"You tell me I'm dying and then expect me to dance like a trained monkey for District 13."

"It isn't just for 13. It's for the revolution, for freedom."

"To hell with freedom!" She suddenly roared.

"Then for your family, for Adric Pedersen, and Finnick."

"Get out."

"Miss Sullivan—"

She spun around. Eyes blazing. "Get out, right now. Or I'll make you."

Plutarch blinked. She could tell he wanted to insist, but instead he closed his mouth and nodded solemnly. "I won't tell anyone, Miss Sullivan. You have my word."

"Much good your word has done me." She sneered.

He dropped his eyes and marched out.

When the door swung shut she breathed deep and cradled the sides of her head with both her hands.

_3 months._ She kept thinking. _3 months._

In a fit of rage she started knocking things off tables, chairs, and shelves. She screamed and punched the air. Letting tears stream down her face as books, papers, and trinkets came crashing to the floor. She didn't stop until there was nothing else to throw and ruin. Only then did she sink to the floor and rest her head against the cold ground.

_No one can know. I need to stay strong. I need to finish things before this is over. _

Her chest heaved up and down. She stayed that way for a very long time, taking in the news of her own death. A final, single, tear rolled down her cheek and into her mouth as she closed her eyes.

Hours later Pandora forced herself up and took a flesh-searing shower. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the small foggy mirror on the floor, it had been shattered but she could still see herself. Her hair had started to grow out again. The cut on her lip almost vanish. It was going to leave a small scar.

In the tunnels, District 13 was the same. Dull, grey, and strict. People still glared at her, only now she didn't really care. They would be rid of her soon enough. The whole world would.

She checked her schedule.

_20:00—Reflection. _

Pandora wadded the cuffs of her sweater in her hands and quickened her steps. She had already had enough reflection for one day.

The hospital was swarming. The smell of sickness and blood was everywhere. Pandora made sure to keep her head low. Coin and Plutarch had urged her on multiple occasions to steer clear of this place unless advised to, but she didn't care. They hadn't stopped her in the past, and she wasn't about to let them now. Lucky for her most of the healers and medics were too busy to take notice of her presence. She slipped through the tunnels and corridors like a ghost. Her steps were fluid until a few doors away. That was when she heard screams.

"I need to get her! I need to find her!"

Pandora's mouth dropped. Her heart clenched. Without hesitation she started running, shoving a medic out of the way as she moved.

Seconds later she was at the door. Her hands fumbled with the knob, until it gave way and she was able to see inside.

He was up. Finnick was up.

"Please lay down!" one of the medics shouted.

Finnick was out of bed. He was screaming Annie's name over and over.

"Let me out of here!"

"We need to sedate him."

Pandora's anger rose as she saw another medic start to fill a syringe with something.

"No!"

Everyone turned to in shock. Finnick stumbled around and dropped to the floor as Pandora came rushing forward. She knocked one medic down and quickly grabbed the syringe from the other.

"Get out!" She shouted.

"Push the panic button! Do it!" the head medic ordered.

Pandora grabbed one of them as they tried to run for the button. She put her hands around their throat, "Don't even think about it! I will snap your neck if you try anything."

In terror the medics started to bolt out of the room. Pandora pulled the last one to the door and gave her a shove.

"We're calling the guards!" the stray medic wailed as soon as she was outside.

"Good."

Pandora slammed the door shut and clicked the lock down. Her hands frantically moved toward anything she could barricade the door with. There was a chair and a flimsy gurney. Not much, but it would have to do.

When she was done and out of breath she turned back around. All she saw was Finnick's feet poking out from behind the bed.

"My neck…" he was whispering. "Ah."

She sprinted to his side and knelt down. He had the strangest look on his face. It was almost comical.

"Finnick? Are you okay?"

His green eyes were glossy. They had definitely been drugging him.

"Pandora? Am I dreaming?"

"If you are, it's a terrible dream, Odair."

He let out a laugh but quickly winced, tilting his head back. "I think I broke my neck."

"Here—let me help you back into bed."

Finnick was awake. He was awake and she was with him. Pandora started to smile as she wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled him onto the small bed. Now was the time to make amends. It was so easy to go the path of resentment and yelling, she was afraid that if she let it out in one go the verbal lashings would start and the anger would escalate. Pandora couldn't have that. She was here to fix not to fray.

_Deep breaths_, Was all she could think. _Breath and think before you speak_.

He let out another yelp as she tucked a pillow behind his head.

"You're awake."

"Unfortunately."

"I've been coming everyday."

He searched her face. There was a moment of apprehension, then confusion, and finally sudden realization. "You were on the hovercraft. I saw you there."

She nodded, "Yes. I was there."

"You're okay?"

_3 months._ Pandora rubbed her lips. "I'm always okay."

"I think you scared all those medics off…."

"Good."

He smiled foggily. "Agreed."

Pandora took a seat on the edge of his bed and stared down at her hands. She didn't know how to continue the conversation. Finnick also seemed at a loss. For a while they both sat in silence, neither one looking at the other.

"Any word from the outside?" He finally asked.

Pandora shook her head. She knew what he was really asking about. Annie. And there was no word on that front. _Poor Annie_. Right now she was probably being tortured for information she didn't have.

"I'm sorry, Finnick—I'm sorry for everything."

"Me too."

Slowly, he stretched his hand out, placing it over hers. "What happened to you, Pandora?"

Her mouth went dry, "You don't want to know."

"I do. I need to know," when she tried to slip her hand away he tightened his grip, "Don't pull away. What did they do to you?"

She stared at the wall and held back the tears. "And what about what I've done?"

"You?"

"All the terrible things I've done. After you hear it you might hate me."

"Oh, I'll never hate you. Even when you stood up and gave that speech before the Quarter Quell I didn't hate you."

She closed her eyes, "I hated you."

"I know."

"You left me, Finnick."

A measure of silence filled the room.

"You left me, and then expected me to be okay when it all ended."

"I never thought—"

"5 years is a long time to not talk to someone you used to share a bed with."

"After all this time you're still angry? Pandora—I didn't mean to end it like that. I think about it sometimes. I always wished it had been…different."

She dispassionately lifted her eyes. "It would have ended somehow. Might as well have been you who gutted the relationship. I knew it was going to end—it was obvious." She pulled her hand away from his. "I loved you more than you loved me."

"No—I just love—"

"Annie more?" Pandora smirked, "Very complimentary, Finnick."

He leaned his head back and let out a deep breath. "I know it was wrong. I was with you."

"You followed your heart, there's nothing wrong with that. I am—was just angry."

"I'm so sorry, Pandora."

She closed her eyes. _3 months._ "Everyone's sorry."

More silence. A wave of medics ran past the door outside. The heart monitor was clicking.

"Were you all alone?"

Pandora bit her lip. Adric. "No. I had a friend."

"That soldier?" Finnick brow creased. "He isn't a friend. He's just as bad as the rest."

That was the wrong thing to say. Pandora flashed him a rage-full glare, her face turning bright red, but she didn't speak. Not for some time. _Think before you say anything, don't let this get out of hand. _Her mouth moved but nothing came out. "You—you don't understand."

"I do."

"Oh Finnick, the world isn't as small as you'd like to believe. You think just because he is from the Capitol that he's bad?"

"He's a Capitol soldier."

"He's my friend. My best friend. I trust him more than anyone. Actually he's the only person I trust."

It was obvious Finnick didn't understand. And how could he? He hadn't experienced everything she had. Time and time again Adric had saved her. It was easy to hate someone like Adric. He was from the Capitol, entitled, and severe, but those were just words. It wasn't who he was. The young man Pandora saw was someone completely different than the monster Coin or Finnick would like to paint him as.

"If it wasn't for him I'd be dead." _But I'm dying anyway so who the hell cares?_ "And now—now he's somewhere where I can't reach him. And if he dies it's my fault, because everything he's doing, he's doing for me. You see, Finnick, I'm just—I'm the real monster."

"I don't believe that."

"You don't know—you don't know everything. I can't tell you. It's too hard. I don't know if I can do it."

"There's only one way to find out."

She was trying to gather her thoughts. She couldn't tell him that she was dying. Not yet. _Bury that, just until I'm ready I'll bury that_. But everything else…

"Okay," she whispered.

"Okay what?"

"I'll tell you everything." She swallowed hard, "I don't know where to start though, Finnick. It's not a happy story."

"The beginnings as good a place as any. I'm ready."

"I know you think that. But believe me, it's much sadder than you think."

She felt him tense, but he wasn't going to back down. Gently she cupped her hands in her lap. Then, soft and honest, Pandora peered into Finnick's eyes and started from the beginning.


	5. Immunity

_Immunity_

The air was heavy in the training room. Pandora stared at the targets and clenched her jaw. Five in a row. Her hands shook as she grabbed the first knife.

There was a definite sense of déjà vu, being back in this type of setting—weapons winking from the walls, mats covering floors, the smell of sweat. Years ago she would have been terrified to stand in room like the armory. That was before the games, before she had been assimilated into the Capitol until she was finally able to take refuge in 13. Now it was all the same.

She rolled the knife in her palm and widened her stance.

_Concentrate…_

She lifted her arm. Her eyes stayed on the warm red center of the target until she drew the knife back and let it fly. The blade whirled through the air well enough but Pandora knew it was a lost cause. She had hesitated too long. She was rusty. The knife soared past the target and landed on the cement floor with a piercing crash.

"Damnit," she hissed, wiping beads of sweat from her brow.

Pandora had been practicing for an hour and not only did she keep missing the target, she was getting worse. It was starting to grate on her.

"That was terrible."

She spun around and glared. Somehow Boggs had slipped into the room without her knowing.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see your sloppy form."

She narrowed her eyes.

"I was told you were good with knives."

"I am."

"So what do you call that?"

She slowly wandered past the target and picked up the blade. "I never said I was good at knife _throwing_."

He smiled but Pandora remained cold. She had asked Finnick who Boggs had been. His face had been so familiar to her that she couldn't curve the curiosity. When Finnick told her that Boggs was Coin's right hand man she had decided right then and there that no trust would be given to him—not that he ever had a chance in the first place.

"What are you doing here?" She finally asked, turning her back to him and staring at the targets once more.

"Rest assured I'm not here for you, Miss Sullivan."

She rolled the knife in her hand. "And yet you keep lingering."

"Your stance is too wide. Tighten up your legs."

His footsteps echoed and the next thing Pandora knew he was touching her shoulders. "These are too tense, loosen them up. The trick is not to hesitate when you throw."

Without reluctance, Pandora reached for his wrist and pulled his hand away. "I didn't ask for help."

"May I ask, Miss Sullivan, what is the matter? You seem on edge."

"I never said you could touch me."

"I'm sorry if I offended you."

Her eyes scanned his face. "I don't need help."

"You know, I heard what happened in the hospital. Those healers were trying to help Mr. Odair and you made a scene."

"Is that how it went?"

"You realize President Coin heard all about it. You're not doing a wonderful job of pleading your case for stability."

"Who said I was trying to?"

Pandora wasn't brainless. She knew that it would cause ripples interfering as she had. Coin and Boggs both had warned her of these ominous ripples. In fact, all any one had done since she arrived in District 13 was remind Pandora that she was out of place here, that she was considered a threat.

"They were going to drug him. I decided to step in."

"One of the medics claims you choke her."

"She wouldn't listen."

Boggs grabbed the knife from Pandora and slid the tip of his finger along the edge. "So you're telling me you did choke her?"

"Choked is a stretch. If I had choked she wouldn't be able to speak at all."

"Maybe in the Capitol that conduct was tolerated. After all you were the face of the Hunger Games—" he straightened his back and briefly glanced to a target, then in one quick motion he hurled the knife. Pandora watched it twirl through the air until it landed right in the heart. "But here, we don't attack innocent bystanders."

"You seem to have a funny idea of what my role was in the Capitol, Boggs."

"I think everyone knows what your role was. Smile and nod…perform some fancy tricks. Not so different from a trained dog. Everyone knows you were a good mutt."

Pandora let out a small laugh and crossed her arms. It was easy to understand what Boggs was implying. _Muttation_. It was meant to be shaming but Pandora wasn't going to let him shame her. "Yes, I was. You should have seen some of the fancy tricks I performed."

He corner-eyed her.

"Things that would shock you. Or maybe not. Since I am a rabid _mutt_, you might not be surprised at all. It's just always so hard to keep control, isn't it? One minute you're being blinded by a thousand camera lights and smiling, the next a man with a branding iron is holding you down and telling you what a terrible person you are for simply existing."

She watched for the telltale signs of understanding. A scrunched nose. A twitch of the eyes. Boggs's face was full of these signs and more. _He knows what I'm referencing. He knows that I've been tortured by rebels. He's seen my scar._

"I'm making you uncomfortable, Boggs." She took a step back, "My apologies. You must have known the man that gave me this—" Pandora rolled her sweater sleeve up and revealed the scar, "—I've often wondered. After all you seem to be very up to date with the vast files District 13 has on me."

He glanced to the scar and then to her face, "Yes, Miss Sullivan. I knew the man."

"Nyx Starson."

"That was his name."

"Was it your idea or Coin's to kidnap me?"

"Neither. Nyx was a wildcard. He was impatient. When he became dissatisfied with our approach he left, taking a group of people with him. What happened was wrong. We, of course, weren't involved."

Pandora smiled. "He was wildcard. I remember that. First he bashed my head in and then he chained me up. Beat me. Branded me. And then he jammed a knife right here—" she pressed her hand against her side, right under her ribs, "It hurt."

"I can imagine."

"So I killed him. I put a bullet through his skull. If that makes me rabid then so be it. I can live with that. I killed him and I liked it."

"And the others?"

She saw ribbons of blood flowing from a neck. Saw the crimson on her hands and heard the gunshot. "Yes, Boggs, I killed those rebels too."

"All for the Capitol?"

Another laugh blew out of her lungs. "It must be so easy to judge when all you have are facts. No experience—no real perspective. Of course I didn't do it for the Capitol. Nothing I did was for the Capitol. I was surviving. Do you know what it means to have to survive? Not like you do here in District 13, hiding like rats. But to really endure pain and sorrow and have to smile through it all? Do you know what it's like to have someone dig their claws deeper and deeper into you, and all you can say is _thank you, sir_ because if you don't then it's not just your life, but all your loved ones' lives? I'm not sure you do, Boggs."

She felt a headache coming on but she refused to stop now. Slowly she took a step forward.

"You don't know a thing about what happened to me in the Capitol, so do not insult me by pretending that you do. And never, ever, call me a mutt again."

Boggs stared at her in silence. She didn't know if he wanted to strangle her or laugh. When he finally smiled she clenched her jaw.

"Miss Sullivan, I think you're starting to grow on me."

It wasn't what she had expected. _Was he testing me?_ If so then Pandora was undoubtedly sure that she had failed, and yet he was smiling. She eyed him skeptically. _Coin's right hand man._

"Come along, now…I've already wasted enough time with pleasantries."

There was nothing pleasant about what just happened. "What?"

"You seem to be ignoring your schedule more and more. Haven't you seen the latest?"

Pandora furrowed her brow and glanced to the schedule on her arm.

"Assembly?" she whispered, "For what?"

"We really don't have time for explanations. Follow me."

The tunnels were fuller than Pandora had expected. People were all marching in the same direction. The Lunchroom would be packed to the brim. Apparently everyone's schedule said the same thing. An assembly could only mean one thing: announcements.

"Why is Coin addressing all of 13?"

"Hm?"

Boggs leaned closer.

"I said—" before she could finish they were passing through the doors and being swallowed by the congregation that awaited them. Pandora widened her eyes and immediately backed away. Too many people in one place. It was giving her a headache.

"Find your place in the crowd. This is important."

Boggs disappeared. He was heading towards the podium. Coin was already there. Katniss was whispering something to her.

She bumped into a little girl and stumbled back. "Sorry."

Her father quickly intervened. "Watch where you're going."

"I said I was sorry."

She saw the hate in his eyes. This wasn't about accidently bumping into his daughter.

"Pandora! Pandora over here!"

She snapped her head to the right and stood on her toes. A few paces away Finnick was waving his hands. She could just make out the top of his head.

"You shouldn't be here…" The father hissed under his breath when she finally looked back to apologize again.

Her gaze landed on him. Her lips parted. "You're right. I'm shouldn't. Sorry, again."

She twisted around person after person. Keeping her head down and making sure to watch her steps. When she reached Finnick he crossed his arms.

"What was that about?" He said.

"What do you mean?"

"That man—"

She turned around. The father was still looking at her. "I just wasn't looking where I was going."

"Why's he looking at you like that?"

She took a seat next time. "Because he thinks I'm a spy."

Finnick glared at the man. "That's pathetic."

"Who cares. He's not the only one. So what's this assembly about?"

"Coin is announcing the people who get immunity."

"What?"

"I hope Katniss was able to get Annie's name on the list."

Pandora felt her heart tighten. "Why would Annie need immunity at all? She hasn't done anything."

"You think they care?"

She knew the answer to that. "No—but even still—"

Finnick's eyes were filling with tears. She could see his face starting to take on that all too cloudy expression. A mental relapse could happen at any moment, Pandora knew the feeling well.

"Hey." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Easy. We're going to get her back."

"They won't even let me outside. How am I supposed to help her?"

Pandora pressed her lips together. "I promise you, Finnick."

"What if Snow's doing to her what he did to you?"

She had to look away. Ever since Pandora had told Finnick about everything that had happened to her, with a few details missing—such as the fact that she was now dying—he had been a constant state of panic.

"He won't."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I know him. Annie's not useful to him. She's only useful because she's connected to you. What happened to me, happened because I was a genetic anomaly. Trust me, Finnick. I know exactly how Snow is playing this."

A creeping shiver traveled up her spine and into her brain. She tried to shrug the shiver off but it only got worse.

_There waiting for you, my little darling_.

Caw!

Pandora's eyes lifted to the ceiling. She saw a crow fluttering around. Circling. Her skin began to crawl. _Hallucinations. _

"Pandora—"

Her eyes stayed on the phantom crow. She dug her nails into her legs.

"Pandora what is it?"

Finnick was staring at her.

_Be normal. It's not real. It's all in your messy head. _

"It's nothing—I was just wondering when this speech was going to start."

Caw! Caw!

The crow swooped over the crowd and soared past her ear. It was hard not to flinch. It was hard to pretend like ghosts weren't tormenting her.

"Hey—are you listening to me?"

Finnick again. She turned to look at him and shook her head.

Caw!

"Yes, of course I am."

"What did I just say then?"

Caw!

She closed her eyes. "It's so loud in here. It's hard to concentrate. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Finnick dropped his gaze and tied another knot in the loose bit of string her had. "I know exactly why Coin has us all here. It's the Capitol announcement that went out. I bet it is. I saw it in the hospital."

Now he had her attention. "What announcement?"

"Peeta—Peeta Mellark. He's alive. Snow has him calling for a cease and desist."

Pandora peered to Katniss Everdeen, she was still arguing with Coin. Now Pandora had a better idea of what that argument entailed.

"He wasn't acting like himself, Peeta I mean—he looked—"

"That's because he's pretending." How had she not seen this Capitol announcement? She needed to be more involved. She needed to know when theses things happened.

"You think Snow is torturing him?"

"Of course he is, Finnick."

Finnick covered is face with his hands. "I keep thinking—maybe, just maybe, he won't hurt them. Maybe he's just using all of them as leverage."

Pandora didn't want to be the one to say it, but it was impossible to hold back. Finnick knew the truth. She wasn't going to let him delude himself, even if it meant keeping a clear head.

"Snow is torturing them." She thought of a long corridor filled with cells. "I know exactly where. Each room designed for a different mode torture." She thought of her black cell. The others had all been different. "The longer we sit around and listen to Coin flap her thin little lips the worse it's getting for them."

"I—" He rubbed his face and leaned forward. Pandora tried to console him but he moved away. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"I know, Pandora. But God, can't you just be a little more understanding?"

"Finnick I—"

He looked away. She could see him shutting down. His eyes dulled. His posture transformed into rigid lines.

"Sorry." She whispered.

Soon, Katniss appeared out of nowhere and stopped short when she saw Pandora sitting next to Finnick. Pandora could tell the Girl on Fire didn't trust her. It was all in the eyes. Even if Katniss were trying to hide her feelings of caution, it would have been a given. The games give a lot of things to the champions: wealth, security, and a difficult lesson in restraint. You can't afford to trust blindly when the stakes are your life.

Without a smile Pandora looked away and rubbed the side of her head. Pins and needles prickled inside her skull.

"Did you get her name on the list?"

"I got it. Let's see if Coin does her part." Katniss said.

Caw!

The phantom crow dove down and perched itself on the chair in front of Pandora. She studied its make belief feather of black, blue, and purple and mashed her lips together.

Caw!

The minute Coin's announcement started the room fell silent. Everyone's ear perked up to hear the new. Katniss Everdeen had agreed to be the Mockingjay, if and only if the captive victors have asylum in District 13. The room stirred with whispered complaints and opposition.

Pandora ran her hands through her hair and leaned back. Coin's eyes were pinning Katniss to the wall. Everything she said she was saying to the girl District 13 was relying on. Pandora couldn't remember what it felt like to be relied on. It had been so long since it was needed. Even when she thought she was helping her family, they had been dead long ago. It wasn't a burden she wanted to bear. Her strength was dwindling. These days Hunger Game victors were dropping like flies.

Her face darkened as the speech continued. It was all the same, pointless tries at soothing the worries of 13, hidden threats to those who may oppose the system. This wasn't a revolution, this was a joke. The longer Pandora stared at Coin, the larger the seeds of contempt began to grow and flourish. She hated District 13. She did. She hated President Coin.

As the assembly came to a close, Finnick and Katniss stood up.

"Was that a threat at the end?" He asked.

"Some things never change." Katniss said.

Pandora rose to her feet as well, and started to make her way to the doors. Finnick followed close behind, still whispering to Katniss as he did. They had grown close in the arena, Pandora could tell.

"Have you met, Pandora?"

She twitched her eyes to the side.

Katniss shook her head. "Not formally."

Pandora silently nodded to her before looking back ahead. Finnick nudged her but she didn't respond.

"She's shy."

"Yea." Katniss said. "I can tell."

Loud footsteps were hustling after them. Pandora glanced back and saw a young man dressed in the rebel's combat uniform heading their way. He smiled at Katniss.

"So it's official." He said.

Katniss just nodded.

"We should go out hunting to celebrate." He smiled again.

"I thought we weren't allowed out?" Pandora suddenly cut in.

The young man hadn't seen here until she spoke. When he looked at her it was with both shock and disgust. Finnick noticed and inched closer to Pandora.

"It's different for them. Katniss made a deal. She gets privileges. This is Gale."

Gale only stared at her. He looked like he was trying to skin her alive with his eyes.

"I don't know what you heard but she's not a traitor." Finnick started.

"Save it. I don't care."

Katniss furrowed her brow and looked down. "Let's just go, Gale."

"You shouldn't be here." He said.

Pandora laughed and arched her eyebrows. "So I've heard. I'm starting to think everyone's right."

Finnick scowled. "Relax, alright? Whatever you've heard isn't true."

"She's a murderer."

"Gale!" Katniss suddenly roared. "Stop. C'mon let's just go."

"Yea. Let's."

Pandora vacantly stared as they walked away. Finnick shuffled in place and scratched his head. "You shouldn't have said anything. It just makes it worse."

"I don't care what they think of me."

"It's not about them, it's about you. What if you told your story? Just like Plutarch and Coin want you to. Maybe it would make it easier, help people understand."

Pandora's head was pounding. She needed to rest.

Her eyes closed for a few heartbeats. "I'm not going to. I am not. Drop it."

She opened her eyes. "Alright? Please?"

He studied her face. "I just want them to understand what you've gone through. Katniss would. She's been in the games. A victor understands a victor."

Pandora rubbed her knuckles against her lip and tried to hide a frown. "You think just because we've all been in an arena we're the same? Well, we're not. I spent the first year after you left trying to convince myself that I could go back to how I used to be, but it's not true. I can never go back. This is me. I don't need the world to know what they did to me when I was in the Capitol because I know and that's all that matters. I know you miss the old me, Finnick, but that was someone else. I'm still here, I'm just different. And I don't think it's a bad different, but if you can't accept me as your friend when I'm like this then I don't know what else I can do to comfort you."

"Pandora, I didn't mean that I don't accept you."

She pressed her hands against her face. Her skin was on fire. "I'm so tired. I have to rest."

"I'm sorry." He quickly spat out.

"Don't be. You didn't do anything to me. I just needed to say all that."

She gave him a closed mouth smile and turned around. Her eyes were still on the floor when she felt the foreign shiver travel through her body again. Cautiously, Pandora lifted her eyes and let out a horrified gasp.

Standing only inches away from her was Adric. His blond hair was stained with blood. His face was swollen and covered in pain. His bloody hand reached out for her and she screamed.

It was awful what her brain was doing to her. Her body was giving up on her in the most cruel way possible.

Pandora rushed backward and cupped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were unblinking and wild.

"Pandora! What's the matter?" Finnick grabbed her shoulder and tried to see what she was seeing, but he couldn't. He couldn't because it wasn't real.

Pandora mashed her lips together and started shaking. Blood was rolling off the false Adric like rain. She was trying her best to stay calm but her eyes were filling with tears and her heart was hammering.

"It's noth—It's nothing."

Adric opened his mouth to scream but it came out muffled and bloody.

"No!" Pandora slammed her hands against her ears and turned away.

"Pandora…what is it?! Calm down."

People passing by were staring and whispering. Pandora dropped her hands and looked Finnick in the eyes.

"I have to go."

"What? Are you kidding? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine. I just have a headache." She lied. "Please don't follow me."

She kept her pace steady and even, until she turned the corner. The minute she was out of Finnick's sight she broke into a mad sprint. Tears were streaming down her face by the time she made it to her room and locked the door. She rushed to the bathroom and pulled out two pills from a bottle the District 13 healers had given her. It was to help with pain, but Pandora found herself hoping that it would help with the terrible mirages her brain was creating.

She splashed water on her face and climbed into bed.

From the time it took in between when she hit the pillow to when she fell asleep, Adric's ghost stayed beside her, haunting her. All she could do was stare at him as he continued to bleed on the floor. Only once did she reach out to touch him. His uniform felt soft and wet, but Pandora knew it wasn't real. It was all in her head. Adric was off somewhere. Not here. This was just her mind playing tricks.

Soon she stopped crying, and clenched her jaw.

Pandora kept praying for the crows to come and replace this lurid hallucination. They never came.


	6. Fluorescent Grey

_Fluorescent Grey_

An instruction to report to Command wasn't the ideal way Pandora wanted to wake up. Of course, there were always worse ways to awaken, as memory served.

Pandora stared at her arm for several heartbeats before pulling herself out of bed and stumbling to the shower. Steam filled the bathroom as she washed away yesterday's terrors. There was no use thinking about the hallucinations and pain in her skull. Time would disintegrate her, there was nothing to be done about that, but it didn't mean Pandora would have to dedicate her existence to worrying about the inevitable. As long as there was time to fix and to avenge she would die gratified, until then Pandora wouldn't rest—not until everyone she had left was safe and sound.

She pulled on a blue shirt and black trousers, slipping into worn leather boots as she grabbed a sweater and headed out. The corridors were cold and empty. The faint scents of damp earth and stone tickled her nose.

At the entrance to Command two District 13 soldiers stood at attention. The right one remained a stoic while the left eyed her suspiciously. They never spoke, but Pandora could tell from the expressions on their faces that they were shocked to see her here.

Without knocking she pushed through the door. Instantly, she was met with chaotic voices arguing.

"I'm not sure this is the right course of action." Finnick said.

"It's the only way." Plutarch combated. "We all know the risks but this is it."

Pandora narrowed her eyes. The table was filled. Plutarch, Finnick, and Coin were on one side. Haymitch Abernathy, Gale, and Katniss mirrored them. No one noticed Pandora except for Coin, who adjusted her hands on the table.

"Pandora, hello."

The voices died down. Everyone turned to look.

She didn't reply to Coin.

"Pandora, you're here!" Plutarch said with astonishment.

"It was on my schedule."

"Yes, but, I mean you've never followed your schedule before."

"Better late than never."

Plutarch laughed, "Come take a seat. Right here."

Pandora slipped into an uncomfortable metal chair next to Plutarch and cleared her throat. Back in the Capitol several times she had been at tables filled with important people, but she was never nervous like this. Her palms were sweaty. It was hard to make eye contact with anyone but Finnick.

He nudged her and scooted closer.

"What happened to you yesterday?" He whispered.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb. You know what I'm talking about."

Pandora caught Plutarch leaning over to watch them. She pressed her fingers against her temple and shrugged. "I had a headache."

"You were screaming."

"Well it was a very awful headache."

"Liar."

"Finnick?" Coin tapped her fingernails against the table. Her pale eyes were on them, watching them with arched, disapproving, eyebrows. "Is there something you would like to share?"

"Sorry." He leaned away from Pandora. Self-consciously eyeing everyone. Pandora glanced at Plutarch, something in his expression told her he was putting two and two together. He was, after all, one of the only individuals privy to her deteriorating condition.

"Alright. Now that we have everyone's attention, I think we should fill Pandora in on what is happening."

"I don't see why she needs to be filled in at all," Gale said.

"Hawthorne. Don't overstep your bounds."

He snapped his mouth shut but continued to glare.

"Katniss has started to film propos for the revolution. Just this morning she did an excellent job with a speech."

Katniss sat in her seat, frozen and quiet.

"It's time for the next step. We need to get her out in the field."

Pandora furrowed her brow. "What?"

"I have my doubts too," Coin nodded. "But Plutarch and Haymitch have convinced me. If this is what we have to do to get the word out there that Panem's mockingjay is alive and well, then so be it."

"You're suggesting that Katniss actually goes out to a district and fight Capitol peacemakers. I say peacemakers, President, because I'm only hoping no Capitol soldiers are there."

"What's the difference?" Gale sneered.

Pandora twitched her eyes to him, her face transformed to steel. "Peacemakers are useful. They are trained to guard and defend, but they aren't like the soldiers. Capitol soldiers have been bred at young ages to fight. They are smart, quick, and they won't hesitate."

"You speak as if you weren't one of them."

Pandora tilted her head up. "Lucky for you I'm not on the Capitol's side."

"Aren't you?"

Katniss scowled at Gale. Finnick suddenly rose to his feet, letting the chair fall back with a crash.

"Don't speak to her like that." He said.

"It's okay, Finnick." Pandora didn't look away from Gale as she spoke. "His words mean nothing."

"Enough of this squabbling!" Coin's voice pierced. "I will not have everyone fight amongst themselves. Pandora Sullivan has been recruited in this rebellion. That is that."

It was humorous to her that Coin was pretending she wasn't suspicious of Pandora. As memory served she wasn't just passively skeptical of her motives, she voiced an uncomfortable dislike for her.

"We'll start off easy," Plutarch interrupted. "With districts that are less hazardous."

"I'm in." Katniss stated. "I want to be out there."

Pandora couldn't believe what she was hearing. She felt Finnick tense next to her.

"That is the stupidest thing I've heard." She spat out.

"It's the only way." Plutarch said. "We can't just sit around and wait for the Capitol to surrender. We need to get out there. Film her helping District 8 out and morale will increase."

"Snow is not ignorant. If you put her out there, she's going to be a walking target!" Pandora shouted.

"I can handle myself." Katniss challenged.

Just then someone appeared from the shadows. Pandora hadn't noticed him until he moved forward. Boggs was dressed in uniform and smirking.

"We have no reason to fear someone like President Snow," Boggs said. "He is a coward. District 8 will be easy enough."

"Don't underestimate him."

"Are you afraid, Miss Sullivan?"

She grabbed the table and propelled herself out of the seat. Her hands were shaking. Of course she was afraid. President Snow had tortured her for seven years. Nothing about being his enemy would be easy, she knew this because even when he was using her he showed her cruelty and violence. No one at this table knew President Snow, not like she did. She pitied them and envied them.

"Watch your mouth."

He smirked.

Plutarch was tugging on Pandora's arm. Slowly, she sank back into her seat and mashed her lips together. "Obviously I wasn't brought here for my opinion. So what exactly do you want?"

Coin tapped her nails on the table again. "We want you on camera with Katniss. President Snow is claiming that the rebels killed you. You should see the ridiculous clips they've manufactured and aired. We need Panem to know that you are alive."

Past Coin's shoulder she saw a shadow carefully walk. He rubbed his lips with his fingers as he came into the light and glanced at her. Adric, or the hallucination of Adric. He wasn't bloody and beaten this time, but it was still jarring to see him. She blinked a few times. He walked to Coin and stared at her before looking back to Pandora.

_"She's right."_ He whispered.

"No." Pandora said.

"No what?"

She dropped her eyes. They couldn't hear Adric. It was in her head, not theirs.

_"I don't trust her, Pan. But I think she's right. You need to fight."_ Adric said. He slowly started to circle the table.

Pandora eyed him and cleared her throat. It was difficult to act like he wasn't there. "I'm not going to do it."

"This is important." Plutarch said. "Pandora—"

_"Pan, don't be afraid. You can't be afraid. Are you going to live the rest of your life in this place? You can help people." _

"Why should I care if Panem thinks I'm dead? Let them." Pandora was losing it. She pulled herself back and dropped her eyes.

_"You remember what they did to your family, Pan. They're doing it now to other families. Children are dying all over Panem. Help them."_ Adric whispered to her. He was behind Katniss and Gale now.

"I understand you want me to help. But I am only one person. I do not matter in the grand scheme of things. I will not go into the line of fire just so the world knows I'm alive." Pandora said it louder than she would normally have, trying to compensate for the fact that she was both saying this to her imagined Adric and Coin.

"It's fine, Pandora." Plutarch wrapped his arm around her and patted her back. "You don't have to." He glanced to Coin and shook his head. "We won't force this on you."

Coin narrowed her eyes. "There will come a time when you will have to do something, Miss Sullivan. You can't be a sitting duck forever."

_"Stupid bitch,"_ Adric whispered at Coin.

Pandora smiled. "Frankly, President. I could care less if you think I'm a sitting duck. Go to hell."

"Is that how you spoke to your former President, Miss Sullivan?" Boggs asked.

"No. At least I was afraid of him."

Boggs rushed toward but Finnick got in the way. "Stop! Don't touch her."

Pandora shuffled back and peered at Adric. He was staring at her sadly. From his seat Plutarch watched Pandora carefully. He followed her line of sight and furrowed his brow. She was seeing something, he noticed. Something that wasn't there. Suddenly, he felt his heart clench.

"Boggs, Pandora is not the enemy. She was abused by the Capitol for several years. She's experienced things you can't imagine. None of us can. If she says no, that is fine."

Adric's hair was parted to the side. He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt as he always did. _"You shouldn't stare, someone will notice. Not that I mind."_

"Pandora?"

_"You really need to work on discretion, kid. Everyone's looking at you." _

Pandora abruptly looked away and cupped her hand to her head. "Sorry. What?"

"I'll go." Finnick said in a rush. "I can go instead of Pandora."

She quickly came back to reality and blinked. "What? NO."

Plutarch lifted his hand. "Sorry, Finnick. The doctor's are still skeptical about her mental state. They're worried you're not in the right state of mind to go out in the field."

"I'm fine. I want to fight."

"Not this time, Finnick."

Coin cleared her throat, grabbing everyone's attention again. "So it's settled then? Katniss Everdeen will be flown to District 8 this afternoon and be filmed fighting the Capitol."

Various people nodded quietly.

"Alright. Everyone's dismissed. Boggs, let's get started."

The group rose to their feet. Pandora darted for the door. She couldn't get out there fast enough. Her eyes were slits as she tied her hair back. Another pointless meeting, another day wasted on propaganda.

Days passed by and Pandora was still stuck in the same stop, neither fully here nor there.

After the mission to District 8 there were more interviews from the Capitol. More Peeta Mellark. It was the last one that sent everything over the edge. Pandora saw it while she was training with her knives. The poor boy screamed so terribly that it hurt her ears. Blood rained down before the camera's cut to black. This was a game changer, she knew that instantly. This was different. Pandora immediately dropped her knives and ran in search of Finnick.

She was out of breath by the time she figured out where he had run off. The healers told her he was in Command.

By the time Pandora burst into the room Katniss was in a catatonic state and everyone was shouting.

"Finnick!"

He rose to his seat.

"They're coming!" She screamed. "We need to do something."

"Calm down, Miss Sullivan. They can't breech our barriers."

"We need to do something! We need to get them out of there!" Pandora roared. Finnick was cupping his hands over his eyes. He was trying not to panic, Pandora realized.

"As heartwarming as that statement is coming from you, Miss Sullivan, we need to address the matter at hand. I think a Level Five Security drill is in order. Boggs?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Let's start with the procedures. Start the sirens."

Instantly, everyone was on his or her feet. Pandora rushed out of Command and breathlessly looked around. A second later sirens pierced her ears. Finnick was to her side, imaginary Adric strolled close behind them. She didn't need to look back to know he was there. She could feel him in the prickle at the back of her skull.

"Annie." He whispered. They were following the strict instructions and descending down into the lower portions of District 13. Apparently, Level Five Security meant a bombing drill.

"Sh." She put her arm around him. "It's going to be fine. We'll be fine."

"You should have gone to District 8 with Katniss, maybe this wouldn't have happened then."

The crowds were getting denser and denser. Pandora side glanced him. "What?"

"If they had seen you were alive then maybe Peeta wouldn't be bleeding."

"Finnick—"

He held back a cry. "I know. I know I'm wrong. I'm sorry. But you should have gone to District 8, Pandora. Don't you want to help them?"

"Why should I?"

Finnick grabbed her arm and made her face him. "Don't ever say that. You don't mean it, Pandora, so don't say that. You aren't the only one who has lost something in this fight."

"This isn't my fight. I just want to be left alone."

"What are you not telling me?"

Her gaze moved to Adric then back to Finnick. "I told you everything."

"But there's more, isn't there? Why are you so afraid?"

"I'm not."

"Are you afraid of him?"

Pandora's breathing turned shallow.

"It's okay if you are. I know, I understand."

"No. You don't."

"I would if you'd let me."

_"Don't tell him you're dying, he can't handle. Not now." _Adric whispered. _"Wait till you get Annie back to him. Wait until then."_

Pandora looked away. "Of course I'm afraid of Snow. Just like you are."

"He can't hurt you here."

She thought of Adric. The real Adric. "He really can, Finnick. Don't be a fool."

"We're friends. I'm your friend, I'd never let anything happen to you."

Her face was grim. "It's not me I'm worried about."

Finnick let go of her arm in shock. Downward they walked. In silence they marched with the rest of District 13. When they finally reached the series of compartments designated by alphabetic letters Pandora's ears had popped several times and her feet were sore.

Boggs grabbed Finnick and Katniss and led them to Compartment E, but before Pandora could follow she felt someone pull on her wrist and turned around.

"Sorry—I was wanting to speak with you, Miss Sullivan. Is that alright?"

Plutarch had snuck up on them. Finnick just stared at Pandora. "Wait, where are you taking her?"

"I need to discuss something with her, Finnick."

"She's coming with me."

"Finnick," Pandora shook her head. "It's alright. I'll see you soon."

His green eyes filled with fear.

"I'll be right back." She said.

Side by side Pandora walked with Plutarch. At first she peered back a few times to see if Finnick was still there, but after they turned the corner she didn't see a point.

Pandora had expected Plutarch to start speaking right away but he remained quiet until they were outside a private compartment identified by a number instead of a letter. Only after he opened the door and gestured for him to follow did he speak.

The bombing started soon after all the doors closed.

"You could have handled that situation better."

Adric took a seat on a cot and started humming to himself. He was still around. Her imaginary friend had followed her all the way down into the bowels of District 13.

"How can you say that? They beat that boy up and it just aired it all over Panem!" Pandora shouted.

Plutarch's back was turned away from her. Whatever he was thinking, it wasn't good. "What were you looking at?"

"What?"

_"Oh, he's a sharp one." _Adric said.

"I saw you, watching something in Command, before District 8 happened. What were you seeing?"

"Nothing."

"You're hallucinating, aren't you?"

Pandora glanced to Adric. He smiled at her.

"I'm not."

Plutarch looked to his cot. "What are you seeing, Pandora?"

Her eyes stayed on Adric. "That's none of your business."

"It's not real. It's important you remember that. It's just a figment of your imagination."

Pandora scratched her head and nodded. "I know."

"How are the headaches?"

"They hurt. Some times more than others. Nothing I can't deal with."

"I haven't told Coin. I don't think that's information she needs. The healers are sworn to secrecy."

She laughed. "It's nothing serious, Plutarch. Just dying."

Imaginary Adric frowned at her in disapproval. He wasn't real, but her hallucination was pretty damn accurate.

District 13 shook. A loud muffled boom sounded. It was strange that this assault wasn't more terrifying to Pandora. All she could think of was one thing. The questions rolled around in her head like loose marbles for a second before she worked up the courage to speak again.

"President Coin said you had spies in the Capitol. How many?"

"A handful. Now, the numbers are dwindling. Snow has been doing interrogations. You can imagine how efficient those interrogations are, since you've been a victim of them."

"So you still have contact with them?"

"Some."

Pandora swallowed the lump in her throat. "Do they know what's happened to Adric since we left?"

Plutarch stared.

"Is he safe?"

"Last I heard. He has been stationed in District 7."

That was a shock. "Why 7?"

"From what I hear he requested the District himself, Pandora."

She couldn't breath. Her hand wrapped around her throat as she took a seat in the nearest chair. "And what of Viktor Mironov?"

"He disappeared the night we rescued you."

Her eyes widened. "Did they kill him?"

"No. His death would have been whispered about. He just vanished. Along with several pieces of equipment and serums. Last report stated that Snow hasn't been able to find him."

She let out a sigh of tense relief and closed her eyes. They were still alive. Both of them were alive.

"You haven't asked about Kol Flemming? Would you like to know about him?"

She nodded in silence.

"He's in District 1 as we speak. The Capitol doesn't know that he's been harboring District 3 refugees in his house there."

Pandora held back tears. She always knew Kol wasn't to be underestimated. He hid his bravery well under a false veil of conceit. He had fooled her.

"It's them, isn't it?"

Her eyes lifted to Plutarch. His face was full of understanding.

"Back in Command I thought your apprehension to go out in the field was because of your illness, but it's not that at all. You're afraid for them, for what will happen to them. After all those years you spent being tortured by the Capitol, you still care for those men. Why don't you have prejudices against them?"

Pandora's face was hard though her eyes were swelling with tears. "We don't choose what life we're born into."

Plutarch put his hand on her shoulder and knelt down. "This is why I need you, Pandora. You understand. You don't see things as black and white as the rest of them do. You know that there are good people in the Capitol still. You remember that. We need to help those people."

Pandora held his gaze. "I know."

"I've been thinking. If there's anyone that can save your life, it will be Mironov. We need him."

She recalled Viktor's kind eyes and carefully hands. Always fixing her, mending her back together.

"We need all of them," She whispered, afraid that someone might hear. "Plutarch, I need them all safe."

He nodded. "Then you have to fight."

"Even if I get them all back here, Coin won't have it. They'll be executed."

"I won't let it happen. Trust me, Pandora. You have to trust me."

"The interview with Peeta Mellark, the one that ended in blood, I can tell Snow's doing something to him."

Plutarch was shocked at the sudden shift. "Well, we always assumed they were being tortured."

"Something in his eyes." Pandora said. "I saw something familiar. Something I've been through. He's not fully him. I know I'm right."

Another series of bombs rattled them.

He was silent.

"Plutarch, we need to get them out of there."

"Soon."

"No. Now."

"Now we wait. When the assault on 13 stops we can discuss what needs to happen next. This assault will be long. Whatever Peeta has done, what he said—it won't make things easier."

Pandora caught her breath.

"Come on, Miss Sullivan. The Compartments are linked. You can get to Finnick if you follow me."

"I'm going with the rescue team when it leaves." She suddenly said. Plutarch froze in surprise. "I'm going to get Annie back to Finnick. And once I'm back, I'm going to search for my friends and help them."

"So, now you decide to fight?"

She straightened up. "I've always been ready to fight. What you wanted was a show for the cameras."

"And what do you want?"

"Redemption." She said.

"I understand. You have my word, then. You have my word that you will be on the rescue team, that I will back you up when you find your friends."

"Good." She said, cringing as the bombs continued to drop on the surface of 13. "Now, show me the way to Finnick."


End file.
